Finding Him
by navyfail
Summary: Rose Weasley is always told that she is a bit stubborn and very oblivious. Maybe that is why she didn't notice when a certain boy took a part of her heart. And now she wants it back. The journey of a girl to find the boy she gave her heart to many years ago.
1. Morning

A concept that neither the Muggle nor Wizarding World could figure out is, wait for it… love.

Yes, four letters that no one could ever solve. Most people can't even say the word, so how can you expect someone to dig through it and tell us what 'it' exactly is? That's right, you can't.

The 'l' word (I am one of the cowards who can't say it, mind you) is a mystery, one that you aren't supposed to solve, one that should be left a mystery. It's the impossible that has no solution and at the same time has an infinite amount of solutions. It is an emotion that winds you up and puts you on edge.

But when it comes down to the main problem with the 'l' word, there are only two options. It is rather you know what it is or you don't. And if you do know what it is then you're lucky. You can save yourself before the dragon of l-o-v-e sinks its claws fully into your back, never letting you go.

Not a good feeling, is it?

But what is worse is falling in l-o-v-e without knowing. You may call me oblivious but I swear I wasn't. I didn't have any of the irritating symptoms: no butterflies in my stomach (I never did get that, do people actually eat butterflies or something? It sounds unhealthy.), no rapid heartbeats, and no daydreaming (okay, maybe just a little, but it was about treacle tarts).

Sometimes I would stay awake pondering on what had got me into this horrific and monstrous situation. Those nights I couldn't sleep. All I could do was stare blankly at the ceiling and remember his face: the grey storms that would always look at me quizzically; the blonde, windswept hair that even left my cousin Dominique jealous; and the flash of teeth that barely appeared.

I truly miss him. And it hurts like hell. It hurts so much that sometimes I want to give up all my reserve and confront him. The pain of not seeing him seeps through my veins and threatens to take over. At times the pain is so overwhelming that I want to scream. And after that I want to cry. But what is worse than not seeing him is the fear of not remembering him.

No one ever told me that l-o-v-e hurts this much.

At the end of the night, I would push those thoughts out, annoyed for even letting them enter. 'Close your eyes,' I would tell myself. Slowly all the shards of memories come back, recollecting themselves without my order. When they all come together, a flash of white sweeps through. Then crack, everything breaks. An explosion of every shade of every color leaves me blind. Breathing heavily, I would force my eyes open. My body would curl itself into a ball instinctively. 'Nothing left,' would echo in my head. My hopes blur and move away leaving one pillar standing: the hope that the memories will never come back.

But they always do.

 _Always, always, always….._

 **Present Day**

 _Ring, Ring, Ring…_

 _Ring, Ring, Ring…_

A sound repeats in the background. It keeps repeating as if demanding my attention. The piercing noise sounds familiar but I can't put my finger on what it is. If it is a 'what' that is.

 _Alarm clock?_ I ask myself. Nah _,_ I threw mine out. Life is so much easier without those little buggers.

 _Owl?_ Nope, that sound is more like a bulldozer on low volume, I conclude.

 _Someone knocking on the door?_ Unlikely, my family knows not to wake me up early in the morning unless they want a jinx or hex of some kind come from my wand. (I prefer _Langlock_ and the _Bat-Bogey Hex_.)

 _My Wiz-Phone?_ Definitely.

Rolling out of my comforting bed, I reach for my phone that is lounging on my night stand. My hand makes contact with it. Fingers curling around it, I touch the 'receive call' icon.

Immediately a loud yet gentle male voice fills the rooms. "Rose, I am at the door. Can you please open it?" Only one person would be stupid enough to disturb my Saturday morning sleep: Albus Potter, my lovely cousin.

Rubbing my face with the palm of my hand, I make way around the clutter of things on the floor and head toward the exit of the cave of doom (my flat that is). As I enter the living space, my brown eyes clear and I start to adjust them to my surroundings. The space is very openly connected with its small kitchen, medium sized dining and messy living room. I pass by a couple couches, some fairly new while others are worn down, and my stacks of dusty books that lay on the ancient rug.

All of my walls are the same shade of pasty off-white with a few scattered frames that hold family photos. The floors are a golden-looking hardwood except for the kitchen which is covered in tiles that are decorated with cornflower blue borders.

Reaching the door, I fiddle with the locks and bolts and then swing open the door to be greeted by a raven-haired, emerald-eyed boy with an amused look etched upon his face. But something is off. I search him over with dazed eyes. Sleep makes it so that I can't spot it so I push it to the back of my head. It's early in the morning. I'm probably overreacting.

Noticing my attire, shorts and a baggy t-shirt, he frowns, "Not ready for the day yet, I suppose?"

I try to glare at him but it doesn't work since I still have sleep clouding my eyes and my body is stiff from the desire to be under warm blankets. Moving aside, I let him enter through the threshold.

"Gee, Rose if anyone comes here they'll think you live in a dungeon," Albus says playfully, heading towards the kitchen. He starts to rummage through my cabinets for some coffee beans while I pull up a stool to my island. The best part of my flat, in my opinion, is the island (well, that and the thought that my parents didn't a pay a knut of it). It ties everything together. The soft oakwood painted a mix of beige and yellow is vibrant and the granite top does the trick of making it look magnificent.

"So, how have you been?" It is a simple question with different meanings. I don't know if I should answer with the truth or just say the usual, 'fine.' I go with the second option.

"Fine," I sigh, letting the bitter smell of coffee awake my senses.

"Just fine?" He has a knowingly look on his face as if he knew I am lying. I don't give him an answer. Instead I take the cup of coffee he holds out to me. I clutch the cup with both hands, the heat radiating off of it makes me feel less chilly.

Al takes a slow slip, observing me over the rim of his mug. Ever since he was a kid he was able to drink and eat warm food and beverages without burning himself while I, on the other hand, had to wait until it cooled down a bit to prevent harming myself.

Al always has these great abilities that I am jealous of: the way he could dive flawlessly on a broom, the way he controls situations by remaining calm, the way he can get an Exceeding Expectations without trying, how he brews potions so quickly, etcetera and etcetera. He also has devilish good looks like James. With his dark, messy hair girls fawn over him. His grandmother's eyes make girls drop to the ground, _literally_. And his 'charm' won the hearts of professors. Don't ask me how, but he manages to get away with things that no one else could.

During Hogwarts, he got a lot of attention. Some days he would use it to his advantage and some days he would disappear so no one could find him. At times I wish I could be like that: simply being, simply breathing. That could never happen though since I was and still am cursed with the Weasley hair. Turns out red hair sticks out like a sore thumb.

"Rose," I catch Albus say. His long, fine hands wave in front of my face, checking if I am still with him.

"Hmm." Taking a sip of my coffee, my brown eyes meet with his earthy green.

"I just said that we have a family gathering in two weeks." His continues to observe me, trying to guess what I had been thinking of.

"Okay," I nod. "What day is it?" Family gatherings are always… grand. There is tons of food, lots of catching up, a game of quidditch (which I participate in), and at the end of the day we all gather around in the living room to watch a Muggle movie of some sort. Since graduating Hogwarts, it's been hard to keep in contact with all of my cousins, aunts, and uncles. I still visit my parent quite regularly though. I'm sort of a daddy's girl and I get homesick easily. But what can I do about it? I've been raised by them and dependent on them my whole life. I'll always end up going back to them in my down times (which is becoming more and more often).

"Saturday," Albus answers easily, taking another sip of his coffee. The bloke takes it with no sugar whatsoever which I find weird and James, his brother, agrees with me.

"So how has work been?" I question, actually interested in what he has to say.

"It's been good. I haven't gotten a project or mission since my last one but I'm hoping to get one in the next couple of months or so." I nod. Albus's last mission was his first. He was gone for a whole month but when he came back he was alright and bathing in some minor success.

A comfortable silence rests between the two of us. We stay there, drinking our beverages as quietly as possible. Albus is my favourite cousin, not going to lie, and spending time with him has always been something I enjoy. So when all of a sudden he says something in a tone that makes me suspicious, I'm surprised.

"I sent an owl to Dad," he states nervously. His fingers smooth over the granite gently, stopping at a rounded corner.

"Okay." I nod, my tone hesitant. Why is he making a big deal about sending a message to Uncle Harry? Unless…

"About Scorpius," he adds on. His full focus is on me now. Moments pass by and my heart beats rapidly at the sound of his name. I hate when it does that. Hearing my own heartbeat hammer in my ear aggravates me. Why does my heart get so excited upon hearing his name? It is not like it is special or anything. It's like my heart wants to constantly remind me of him, his face, and how he makes me feel.

"Al-" but he cuts me off before I can protest.

"Rose, listen to me" he asserts calmly, securing my attention. His face and resonance suddenly morph. Tenderly he voices, "This has gone on too long. I can't see you like this, not anymore. It has been four years and what you are feeling right now isn't going to go away.""

"Al, I don't think-"

"Rose, you love him. I know you do and you know you do. And I don't blame you and you shouldn't blame yourself." Al places his hand over mine in comfort. I slip my hand out of his fast, his words stinging my skin.

"I don't l-" I cut myself off, not able to say the word. Albus raises an eyebrow. He thinks he already proved his point, but I can't have that so I try to say something, anything really, to prove him wrong. "I just miss him." I fake a nonchalant shrug. "We got close seventh year, that's all."

"People don't have constant dreams of friends, Rose. I was best friends with him and I can tell you straight out that I don't dream about Scorpius."

I swallow. Saying his name out loud again makes my heart beat even faster. "Al, they're just dreams. They don't mean anything." I pick up my mug but I can't hold it steady in my hand. My hands are shaking too much. I set it down as quickly as I can, hoping Al hadn't seen. His contemplating look says he has.

Al sighs. "You have to find him, Rose. I don't know how but… just find him."

I almost laugh at how easy he makes it sound. "And say what exactly? 'Hey, I'm Rose Weasley. You know Al's cousin. We met in seventh year and never had contact again. Remember me?'" Even when I'm sad, I'm sarcastic. I can tell my Al's furrowed brows that he's not please by my tone.

He holds my gaze for a moment before rubbing his face with his hand. "I'm telling this to you as a friend. If you don't go tell him now, you'll regret this for the rest of your life."

"You can't know that for sure." My voice comes out hoarse instead of composed.

"Yeah, I do. You love him." He says the last three words in such a soft voice that it hits me somewhere on the inside. I think that's what does it. Him saying those three words again. Because it's true and I can't do anything about it.

I can feel my eyes watering, tears cling to my lashes. They want to pour out but I don't let them. Not today, not now. "I don't know if I can do it," I admit, closing my eyes shut so Al can't see the damage his friend has done.

I hear him come up behind me. His hands rest on top of my shoulders and his chin rests on my head, assuring me he is there. He is there for me and I can't be more grateful. "You are so strong, Rose. You are going to be fine. I promise." And those words chime through my head. Maybe I can do this. Maybe, just maybe it is time to deal with those buried feelings and those raw emotions that keep banging on my door.

The swirl of thoughts clear and is replaced my determination. I am going to find the boy I gave part of my heart to, the boy who took it without permission and I am going to get it back. All I need to do now is track down that part of my heart.

How hard could it be?

* * *

 **A/N: This is my first ScoRose story so I would love to hear your thoughts on this. It's going to be a journey story with lots of flashbacks to seventh year with Scorpius. I hope you guys are liking it and please don't hesitate to drop a line, emoji, or a whole paragraph in the review box below!**


	2. Manor

**Seventh Year, October 2023**

The library is my favourite place in all of Hogwarts. It is a safe haven that gives you a break from all the havoc in student life. The drama, the lust, the gossip are all alluring but when it comes down to it, I would rather read and study than pine after guys or gush about the latest fashion. I am more of a nerd than a girly girl and, unlike others, I am perfectly okay with that.

The grand door to the world of knowledge is only a few feet away. Walking up to it, I open the door as quietly as possible. As I walk past Madame Pince's desk, she narrows her eyes at me. I am not one-hundred percent sure why she has taken a repugnance towards me. It might be because she has some weird conspiracy of how I am stealing books under her nose or how I am copying down the information and selling it on the black market. _Puh-lease_.

I take in the scenery of the tall, old shelves filled with numerous volumes of each and every size, the piles of books that need to be re-shelved, and the few occupied tables.

As I look around, I spot a familiar brunette waving at me frantically, ushering me to join her and her friends. I smile at Jane and walk over to the group. There are three others at the table. Two that I recognize: Amy and Sophie, and one that I don't. Amy is a bubbly blonde that sits next to me in Herbology while Sophie is a strawberry blonde whom I share a dorm with. They both give me a grin and then continue talking about a fellow seventh-year named Ryan. I can't blame them. Ryan is a hottie. The girl I don't know doesn't even acknowledge my presence. She just keeps writing her essay. I am about to take the seat next to Jane when I hear a " _psssttt."_

Throwing a quick glance over my shoulder, I almost turn back around; however, my curiosity gets the best of me. What if there is a person behind the shelves? I know there is another table there but most people don't even know about it. "Rose," the same voice exclaims. It sounds like one of my cousins.

"I'll be right back," I let Jane know before going to the location of the voice. Navigating my way around the library, I come to a halt in front of the one shelf I spent a lot of my fifth year behind. Molly found this place in her second year and all the Weasleys and Potters use it when they want to be isolated from the rest of the enormous room.

Taking a deep breath, I maneuver so I can take a peek behind the shelf. And I was right, the voice was coming from here. Right there is Al and the Slytherin companions who he calls 'his friends'.

"Oh good, Rose. You heard me," Albus says, waving at me to come over. I stay rooted on the spot, not moving.

"What do you want?" I ask him in the nicest way possible. Albus and I are close, really close but that doesn't mean I like hanging out with his Slytherin friends. I know it sounds like house prejudice and all but Slytherins… make me uncomfortable.

""To see my lovely cousin, of course," he answers, widening his eyes at me. One of his friends snort. I can't tell which one.

I raise an eyebrow at Al. "Not that that doesn't sound great and lovely and all, but exactly _what_ do you want?"

"Oh, come on, Rose. Don't be like that." He pouts at me, emerald eyes glistening in innocence. I sigh, damn it, Al. "Come sit with us." He pats the seat next to him. I stare at it in mild horror and unsureness.

"Oh," I laugh nervously, "I don't know Al. I'm already sitting with some people and-"

"Your cousin seems to be scared to sit with a bunch snakes, Al," a voice cuts me off. I glare at the speaker and am slightly surprised when I realise he's a blonde that I've already been warned about in first year… Scorpius Malfoy. I glare at him but I don't see his reaction.

"You know what? I'll be right back." I rush back and grab my things and give a hurried apology to Jane. I make my way back to the table full of people I barely know. I sit down on the empty seat next to Al and another person I can't seem to recognize. He may be in my Potions class but I don't seem to remember his name. Edward? Elliot? He gives me a polite smile. His eyes sparkle a very light blue and his dark, natural brown hair is in a sweep to the side.

"So… you want to help me with my Transfiguration essay?" Albus inquires in the most casual way he can pull off. He nudges the piece of parchment towards me.

I give him a plain, deadpan look before snatching up the essay and starting to check over it. Bringing out my wand, I flick it a couple times for some spelling corrections, erase some parts, add in some more detail, and rephrase a couple sentences before handing it back to him. He grins at me and then turns to see something or is it someone?

I wait a few minutes, he doesn't move. "What are you staring at Al?" A devious smirk already starts to play on my lips.

He whips his head around and mumbles, "Nothing." He opens the textbook in front of him and pretends to read it but I catch the tinge of pink on his cheeks.

""Really? 'Cause the only person I can see from here… is …. what's her name? Oh, yeah.. Natasha Fleming," I press on, waiting for him to express some emotion that suggests he likes her.

"What? No!" he hastily exclaims. Now, the three other blokes at the table start to listen in.

"Really?" I question, crossing my arms over my chest, tilting my head to stare him straight in the eye.

"Yeah, _really_ ," he emphasises.

"Oh," I play along with him before adding on, "so you don't find Natasha Fleming pretty?" His eyes widen and he blushes the same shade as my hair. Gotcha.

I lean back into the wooden back of my chair, my full smirk showcasing itself. Alby has a crush on Natasha Fleming, a pretty, shy sixth year. How cute!

"Yeah.. I mean I guess… s-some people may find her p-pretty," he stumbles over his words.

"Aww," I coo, pinching one of his cheeks. "Alby has a crush on Natasha."

He slaps my hand away and I laugh at his behavior. The last time Albus had a crush on a girl was back in fifth year and that failed miserably since he waited too long to ask her out. She ended up going out with this other guy for the next two years; not to mention that she was older than Al by a year.

"Shut up, Rose," he mutters still glancing down at his textbook.

"Hey, at least she's not older than you this time," I tease. I get a scowl from him in return.

"Are you talking about Chloe Harris?" the boy next to me questions. I nod. The light brown-haired boy sitting across from Al chuckles, probably remembering that time. His skin is a milky, peach color and his eyes are a mixture of brown and deep blue . Hmm… why do all of Al's friends have pretty eye colors? How unfair.

The blonde across from me shakes his head, his lips twitching up. I stare at him curiously and his eyes glance up at me, a startling silver. My lip twists in confusion. How can a Malfoy have such beautiful eyes? Weird.

(But it isn't weird. His eyes are beautiful, just like the rest of him)

* * *

 **Present Day**

A knock comes from the door. I get up from my sitting position on my couch, patting down my black skirt as I go to let the person in.

"You really need to get that damn fireplace connected to the Floo Network," Albus complains as he comes in.

I roll my eyes at him even though he is right. Ever since I got this apartment five months ago, my family has been badgering me to get it connected. Uncle Percy and Molly have even offered to do it for me but the idea doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. Since graduating Hogwarts, I hadn't kept much in contact with my friends and classmates. My world basically revolves around my family and job. James calls my life 'lame' and I can't help but agree with him.

"So did you talk to him?" I inquire, feeling hopeful. Albus takes a seat on my couch and I go across from him. The owl he had sent yesterday hadn't come back with a response so he had set up a meeting with his dad this afternoon. He gives me a sad smile and I can already tell what he is going to say next.

"Dad didn't budge." If I had put my hair down, I would probably be tugging at it but it is in a neat ponytail so I keep from touching it. "I tried my best to get him to spill something but he wouldn't say anything. You know how Dad is, Rose. Being the head of the auror office, he takes his job really seriously."

I nod, knowing that Albus is right. Uncle Harry is a loyal man which I admire but sometimes I really wish he could give us some information when we need it.

"You could ask your Dad," suggests Al, trying to come up with ideas. He is dressed in casual jeans and a plain, blue t-shirt since it is Sunday.

"I can't ask Dad… he'll freak out. Once he hears me say the word 'Malfoy', he'll get suspicious." I sigh."Besides, Dad may not even know where he is." I can already imagine my Dad's face going red in slight anger and wariness. I couldn't bring him into this; this is my problem, not his.

"That's true. Uncle Ron has never been fond of dear ol' Scorp." Hearing his name makes heart beat faster but I try my best to ignore it. Stupid heart.

We sit there for a while after: Al on the couch, me sitting on the table, my feet dangling underneath me. Why, oh why did Scorpius have to become an Auror out of all his career choices? Couldn't he have been... oh, I don't know..a desk clerk? You know, a job that is actually trackable. But then... maybe this wouldn't have been a problem if I had just swallowed my fear and pride and told him earlier... way earlier.

"What are you going to do next?"Albus asks.

I stare up at the ceiling, weighing my options. Someone had to know where he is, that much is obvious. Uncle Harry knows but he can't tell me, but there has to be someone else... a relative. "His parents?"

"What about his parents?" Albus' eyebrows scrunch up together.

I twirl the auburn lock that fell out of my ponytail as I question, "Do you think his parents know where he is?"

The boy in front of me deliberates this for a moment before letting out a,"no." I am about to groan when he adds on, "but he was close to his mother."

My ears perk up even more at this piece of information. From what I knew of Scorpius, he didn't bring up his family that often. He cared for them but during Hogwarts, he hadn't talked about them too much. But then... I didn't make an effort to get to know him 'til seventh year. "Astoria Malfoy?"

"Yeah, Scorp used to always send her this big card and gift basket to her every Mothers Day."

I feel a small pinch in my heart that I hadn't known that fact till now. I really didn't know him or pay enough attention to Scorpius back then and yet, here I am, ready to visit his mother if she knew something about his whereabouts. Life has a weird way of turning everything around, doesn't it? "So she knows where he is?"

Albus cringes at my hopefulness. I can tell his response isn't the one I want. "No, not exactly. His location is supposed to be secret, even from the ones he loves. But I do think she has a clue on where he is."

I digest this information. Letting out a breath, I grab my purse, phone and black flats and head towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Albus shouts after me.

"Malfoy Manor," I yell back. Then, I disapparate.

* * *

 **About a Year Ago**

"So Rose..." drawls the green-eyed boy sitting across from me. He has this look in his eyes... one that I don't like one bit. It is the one he has when he has a plan formulating and guessing by the tone of his voice, I am apart of that plan.

"What?" I wipe the beads of sweat with the top of my hand, knife still in hand. The apartment is warm, dingy, humid, and-again- warm. It doesn't even look like an apartment; more like a small room trying to squeeze in a house. The kitchen takes up most of the space and the rest of it is old, stained carpet and in the corner lay a mattress, and a desk with a chair tucked into it.

"You know Scorpius?" The mention of his name makes my hand get even more sweaty. The knife goes through the tomato. I inspect the slice, it is too thick and a little uneven.

"Yeah, what about him?" I casually ask. My eyes stay on the cutting board.

"Oh... well, he got his first big mission." My hand presses down on the hilt of the knife, guiding it through. The crisp sound the edge makes when it hits the board means the cut is clean. I group up the tomato slices and drop them into the bowl.

"That's good." I grab a spoon, the olive oil and the salt.

"That is _good_?" Albus emphasises the last word.

I look up for the first time. His eyes have a question in them, one that I hope he doesn't ask and even if he does, I doubt I'll give him a straight answer.

"Yeah, why wouldn't that be good?" My focus is back on the salad, mixing it as I sprinkle in salt.

We both watch me add in the olive oil before he drops the bomb. This time his tone is plain, no suggestiveness, no hints of any kind. Though, I hear a hint of sadness. "He's relocating."

My brown eyes dart up. Relocating... as in he is moving... most likely out of England. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. "Do you know where he is going?"

Albus drops his plain, serious look and goes back to the laid-back one he usually carries. His shoulders rise up and then fall in a shrug. "No idea, it isn't supposed to be disclosed."

All I say is, "oh."

Later, when we eat dinner, I can't get rid of the feeling that something is wrong.

(I should have listened to my instincts.)

* * *

 **Present Day**

I wind up landing on a sidewalk... on my arse.

Graceful landing, isn't it?

Not.

I pick myself up and dust off my top and pencil skirt. I then retuck my blouse in since it had ruffled during the apparation.

I'm not at Malfoy Manor, that I can tell right of the bat. People say that Malfoy Manor is supposed to resemble a huge, dark mansion. Before, it used to ooze off dark magic but I'm going to take a good guess that it isn't like that anymore.

Right now, I am at a road intersection with no cars in sight. There is a clearing a few feet behind me and looking down at the pavement, I can see untamed green grass beginning to seep through the cracks of it. Around me are smooth hills and willowy trees but no houses. Yep, this is definitely not Malfoy Manor.

I go through my options: apparate back to the apartment and give up, take the clearing, or walk straight ahead and see where the pathway takes you. The usual me would have picked the first one, because through my analysation I would come to the conclusion that even if I did find Mrs. Malfoy, she wouldn't tell me where her son is. But this time, I go for the unsure choice: the last one.

My legs start moving and as I keep moving forward, my surroundings blur, leaving only me and my thoughts. If I did land in the right spot, I should be at the boundary of protection spells that keep people from apparating directly into the mansion; therefore, it shouldn't be too far away. However, that's a huge 'if.'

After about ten minutes later, a gate comes into view. It stands dark and proud, the midnight blue color of it shines money and ancientness. And past it is the famous manor... more importantly where Astoria Malfoy lives.

I step forward, my hands reach out. The buzz of magic vibrates strongly from the metal. I don't touch it. Now the question is... how am I supposed to get in?

All of a sudden the gate opens. The right side creeks as it swings to an opening, clearly letting me inside.

Well that's… unexpected.

I walk in and I can see that the manor sits where the wide pavement ends. The lawn surrounding the area is vast and trimmed. As I move toward my destination, I take note of garden a few feet away, right in front of the house. There are multiple tulips and various kinds of rose bushes. A bench is dug into the soil and on it is engraved 'initium novum'. How peculiar.

It doesn't take long before I am at the wooden door. A knocker graces it but to my surprise, it isn't a magical one. Nervousness boils in my stomach, and I can feel some goosebumps form even though it isn't cold in the slightest.

The Malfoys seem to have changed, I reassure myself. My dad once said that they used to have this huge hedge surrounding the entrance and the sky above was darker than it should be. But as I look up I see that the sky isn't dark but its normal light blue. _Come on, Rose, you can do this._ I gaze at the silver knocker once again. What exactly is there to be afraid of?

So… I knock, three times.

A few seconds later, the door opens and there stands a lady who looks to be in her mid-fourties. She has dark hair, light-colored skin, and electric, blue eyes. She stares at me quizzically.

"Can I help you?" Her voice is clear yet soft.

"Are you Astoria Malfoy?" I ask politely. She nods, frowning a little. This saddens me. But then it hits me that she probably has no idea who I am. I'm just some stranger who is standing at her doorstep. Talk about awkward.

"Can I talk to you, Mrs. Malfoy? I'm Rose Weasley." I offer out my hand to her. I watch as Scorpius's mom's eyes widen. Her focus immediately darts to my hair (because it is the Weasley colour) and then she looks down at my hand. She shakes it, and her lips twitch upward a little and for some reason I see Scorpius looking back at me. It hits me that they have the same smile.

Mrs. Malfoy steps aside. "Why don't you come in?" She motions inside and I cross the threshold. This is going to be… interesting.

I shift in my seat as Mrs. Malfoy continues to inspect me. My hands feel clammy and to keep them from shaking I keep them on my lap. The ends of hair is starting to friz from the weather and I can feel myself getting a little sweaty (even though it is like negative degrees in here). The small smile I saw on her face just a few minutes ago is replaced by a frown, her eyebrows are pinched together in thought.

"Why are you here?" Her tone isn't pleasant but it isn't cold either. That's good, right?

I let out the breath I had been holding. "I was a friend of your son."

"Was? As in you aren't anymore?" She quirks an eyebrow at me. Again, the action reminds me of Scorpius.

It takes me longer than it should to come up with a response. "I haven't really kept in contact with him." She nods. Right at the moment, a house-elf enters with a tray of tea and biscuits. Thank Merlin, my mother isn't here right now!

"Place the tray on the table." The house-elf places it down.

"Can Binky get Mrs. Malfoy anything else?"

"No, thank you. You can go now." Mrs. Malfoy offers a smile at Binky and the house-elf leaves.

It registers in my head that Scorpius had a house-elf growing up. For some reason, this makes me feel a little sick to the stomach. I guess Mum would be proud.

"Tea?"

I shake my head and mutter a "thank you for offering." She pours herself some and then sits back to inspect me over the rim of her fancy cup. Her calculating eyes make me want to run out of this house and never come back but at the same time, it makes me want to stare at her back, showing her I am not intimidated by her.

"I want to know where Scorpius is." I blurt out before I can stop my self. I cringe it embarassment. Well that didn't go as planned.

She looks baffled for a second before she says, "I'm sorry but I can't help you."

I can't tell if she is lying or telling the truth, or maybe it is just that I'm scared she dpesn't know anything at all, like me.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I know you have no reason to help me but if you know where he is or have any clue to wear he is, please… can you tell me?"

"Why should I help you?" she inquires, tilting her head back.

I feel defeated. She's right, why should she help me? I'm just some Weasley, trying to get information on her son who has been gone out of England for the past year and a half. No mother would willingly say anything. "I don't know."

She stands up to lead me out and I follow her. Disappointment clings to me like rain water. Before I go, I rotate around to face her again. "One more question, Mrs. Malfoy. What do the words on your bench say?"

Her lips don't move but her eyes smile at me. "A new beginning." She opens the door for me.

When I exit, I feel a cool hand grab mine and put something rough in it. When I turn back, the door is closed. Huh.

I look down at my hand. There lays a piece of crumpled paper. I open the piece of parchment, there is neat, ink writing on it.

It's an address.

* * *

 _Author's Note: I went back and edited the first chapter. The plot is still the same, I just made the chapter a little longer. I hope you guys are liking the story. Let me know your thoughts in a review. :)_


	3. Ministry

"An address?" Al stares at the piece of parchment in his hand, looking at it skeptically.

"By the looks of it." I shrug, staring at the clock for the trillionth time this morning. It reads 6:10 am. Neither of us need to be at work till seven.

"Why would Mrs. Malfoy give you an address?" Al has a wondering look on his face. He likes it when things make sense and as do I, but this is just plain confusing.

"No clue." I take a sip of my coffee and almost spit it out after… it's burning hot.

Albus taps on the parchment a few times with his wand. Nothing bad happens. Deeming it safe, he tucks his wand away.

You would think having an address given to us would make us ecstatic but it doesn't. The address is clearly still in England and we know for a fact that Scorpius isn't in England. The question is... whose address is it?

"How about this? During our lunch break, we both grab some sandwiches or Chinese or whatever and try to locate this address... if we find it , which we probably will, we'll take a shot and knock, yeah?"

"What if some creeper lives there? Or what if we bother an old lady?" I ask, unsure. The idea of just showing up at some stranger's flat doesn't particularly appeal to me.

Al grins at me. "If there is some creeper living there, I'll make sure he doesn't get near you. Does that make little Rosie feel better?" He coos the last part as if he is talking to a child.

"Shut up, Alby. I can take care of myself." He coughs into his mug, muttering something along the lines of 'yeah, keeping telling to yourself that.' I fix him with a glare and he flashes me his teeth, getting up as he reaches over to ruffle my hair.

I scowl at his hand. No one touches the hair.

"Just kidding, Rose," he says and I soften.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." A smile plays on my lips. I can never really hold anything against him.

"Have to go. I'll pick you up for lunch, yeah?" I nod. He grabs a blueberry muffin before he's out the door.

I finish off my coffee and trudge back to my room to get ready for the day.

* * *

After I lock the door to my flat and recast all the protection charms Mum made me swear to have up at all times, I make my way to the elevator.

Black pencil skirt. Tucked in white button up. Black itchy tights. And a pair of Oxford flats. Can you guess what colour they are?

Oh right, black.

I hit the ground floor button and immediately the bulky metal doors close. When it opens again, I'm at the blue and flaxen themed lobby. Striped rugs, standard lamps, and yellow tulips in almost every vase. The perfect picture of Muggle. I give a wave to Melinda, the middle aged woman at the desk and exit the building.

It takes me a few minutes to locate a secluded spot between two red bricked buildings. Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I conclude that no one is paying attention to me. Good.

I picture a warm pub with dim lights, a bar with multiple glasses of fire whiskey and jugs of butterbeer, and bustling witches and wizards of every shape and size. Before I know it, I feel like I'm being sucked into a tube and suddenly dropped onto the floor.

I open my eyes to see I'm at the Leaky Cauldron, a popular pub that holds the entrance to much known Diagon Alley.

"Hey, Aunt Hannah!" The blonde-haired witch smiles, making the lines around her mouth more visible, and nods to where the fireplace is.

"Go along, dear."

A couple years back the Ministry had turned the large brown-bricked fireplace at this place into a worker's entrance. At first Aunt Hannah had been hesitant but later pushed her worries aside and gave her consent to the Department of Magical Transportation.

I take a handful of floo powder from the mantle and step inside. With a yell of "Ministry of Magic" I drop the product from my hand. The last thing I remember is the fire gleaming an emerald green before my eyes.

When I step into the atrium, I almost get run over a man nearing retirement age. He grunts at me and mumbles on about how rotten the kids are these days.

I don't take any mind of it and join the crowd going forward. I break away when I spy the familiar black door with a large painted pink dot.

I'm about to push it open when two witches wearing long violet-coloured robes come out. They don't take any notice of me as I slip past them.

Living in a Muggle neighborhood, I stash my robes in my purse to wear later in the restroom. Not to mention that since I floo into the Ministry, I always manage to get grey powder all over my hair, so checking the bathroom mirror comes in handy as well. The only problem is that it tended to comment on my dust covered appearance.

"Someone looks like a train wreck today," the inanimate object comments in a dry female voice.

I continue brushing off my hair as best as I can, trying my best to ignore the mirror. The grey soot really stuck out from my auburn mane.

"You're a witch, aren't you? Wave that wand of yours," the mirror continues, now taking on a sassy tone.

I scowl at my own reflection. Stupid mirror.

"That floo powder really clashes with that hair of yours. Don't you know a spell to get rid of it?"

"No. As a matter of fact I don't know a spell to get rid of it, do you?" I ask, crossing my pale arms over my chest. I'm talking to a mirror now. Great. Even in the Wizarding world that's frowned upon.

"Don't take that tone with me," she- I mean the mirror- scolds. Why is it that the person who invented talking mirrors didn't figure out how to get rid of the unintentional attitude that came when them?

"You know what? Whatever, I'll just leave then." I grab my bag off the sink counter and stalk to the bathroom exit. I don't need a mirror of all things to be the one to ruin my day.

"If the Ministry is hiring such dimwitted girls these days, who knows what'll happen to the rest of us." My eyes narrow. I've never taken well to anyone implying that I'm daft. Looks like I'm going to have to add anything to that list as well.

* * *

"Hey, Rose," Annalise greets me.

"Hey, Annalise." I smile at the short brunette, stopping at her cubicle to have a chat. She's in similar attire as me except instead of wearing black, she's sporting purple, the other colour that is permitted in our dress code. "How are you?"

"Mostly good," she pauses to hold up a manila folder up for me to see, "but this morning I have to deal with a case filed against cauldrons shipped in from Belgium that don't have standard thickness."

I scrunch up my nose, feeling sorry for her right after she said the word cauldron. Ever since Uncle Percy changed the regulations for cauldron thickness back in the early 2000s, the department has had to deal with many cases where the standard isn't followed or so I've heard from senior co-workers.

"Good luck with that." Annalise nods and I enter the cubicle next to hers which just so happens to be mine.

My desk reflects the state of my flat. It has papers haphazardly stacked in the corner, numerous quills of different lengths jabbed into a mug, books stacked in no order next to my chair, and a new file sitting right in the middle. I drop my purse next to my desk and open the folder, curious at today's assignment.

Skimming through it, I groan.

"Bad one?" Annalise asks from her spot a few feet away from me.

"I have to go visit my Uncle Percy up in Transportation."

Annalise lets out a 'ohh', understanding my displeasure. "Who is trying to set up a portkey this time?"

"The Romanian Ministry's Head of Beast Division," I say as I stride past her cubicle, not looking forward to taking the crowded elevator down to the level below us.

* * *

"You know, Al, I get that you're a bloke and all, but please refrain from staring at my co-worker's bum." Al lets himself enjoy the view for a few more seconds before turning around and smirking.

"Not my fault that your co-worker's hot." He shrugs in explanation as I close my folder and grab my tan handbag.

We squeeze out of my work space and he hands me one of the two cups of coffee he has in his hands.

"So we eat and then find the building or the other way around?" I ask as we enter the elevator with two other men in identical pewter-coloured robes. Seeing as how collected they look and how they abstain from glancing at each other, I'm going to take a guess that they work down in the Department of Mysteries.

"We'll eat first. I already tracked the building down to save time." Albus gives the two men with us suspicious looks and moves to shield me from them. I almost roll my eyes at his protectiveness.

"When did you find the time to do that?" I take a sip of my black roasted coffee, wondering how in the world he made enough time to track the place down. All morning I had been running up and down between the Department of Magical Transportation and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It had taken me almost three hours to get everything set for an average portkey for a not so average person.

"I actually asked James do it for me," Albus admits sheepishly. Surprisingly, both of the Potter boys had ended up in the Auror division. Uncle Harry had been ecstatic, Aunt Ginny… not so much. These days she she frets over all three of them like Grandma Molly when we don't eat enough of her cooking.

"Wouldn't he have asked you for something in return?" James may care immensely for his family, but that doesn't mean he gives out free favours. Who knows what Albus offered him for a simple track down.

"That's the thing. He didn't ask me for a favour." Albus averts his eyes from my confused ones. He's hiding something and I know for a fact that James doesn't let anything slide.

"Al," I warn.

"Okay, so I may have said that you asked me to place the request of finding information on the address. " I sigh. Great, now I owe James.

"I think it's time I changed my favourite cousin from you to Lucy," I threaten half-heartedly. Al, knowing this, rolls his eyes at me. The elevator stops at our floor and we take our leave, weaving through the que we are met with when the doors open. We both discard our coffee cups at a nearby trash can which blazes a lilac colour when we do.

"Please, we both know that you secretly hate Lucy," he says as he heads to a rare secluded spot. The Ministry Atrium may have been vast; but during the morning, lunch hour, and the evening rush it seemed to shrink in size due to the large assembly of workers that gathers.

Al holds out his hand and I grudgingly take it. Immediately, the familiar feeling of being compressed envelopes me, before my feet hit the ground with a thud.

We are behind a tall building made up of large off-white bricks. Glancing up, I see a line of windows decorated with intricate borders. No one stands near them, but as I stretch my neck to get a better view, I make out dark oak shelves with various volumes of books. From my observations, I'm guessing Al's apparated us behind a library.

When I turn around to ask him why we are at a library of all places, I notice that the black-haired boy is no where in sight. Before I can begin to panic, he appears around the corner.

"Come on, Rose. We have to go." I follow him around the side of the building till we arrive at the start of pavement.

Al tilts his head toward a bench nearby and we both discreetly make our way to it, sitting down as if this is a normal occurrence. He then hands me the bag of food he got from one of our favourite cafes. I put my hand in and take out two sandwiches. I pass one over to him and we begin eating silently.

The street itself doesn't have many people at this hour but the few that pass by us, give me an odd look.

"Do I have something on my face?" I ask, turning to Al.

"No." Al twists his mouth in confusion before his eyes widen in realisation. "You still have your robes on."

I place my sandwich over the wrapper it came in while I try to subtly take off my robes. I fold it messily and drop it on the bench.

After a few minutes, we both dust off our hands and stand up. As more and more people start filling the street we're on, we head to a shadowed corner so I can shove my robes in my purse.

"You know maybe I should ask Aunt Hermione for a purse. Maybe then I could hide the Invisibility Cloak without James finding it," Al muses jokingly. For all of the Weasley girls' fifteenth birthday, Mum had gifted us a purse and all the Weasley boys tended to tease us about them for whatever reason. The purses were all in different shapes, sizes and colours to match our tastes but they all had one thing in common: Mum had placed an undetectable extension charm on each of them. Mum really is a life saviour.

"We can't waste any time. Break doesn't last forever you know." I give Al a stern look which he waves off.

"The flat is a few blocks from here. Shouldn't take too long on foot."

And he's right. It doesn't take too long before we're both standing in front of a Victorian style building made up of nut-brown bricks and a navy-coloured door. A black galvanized gate surrounds it closely, giving it foreboding look.

"Now or never, right?"

"Now or never," Al repeats and we both make our way inside, him leading and me following. On the inside, we locate the front desk easily to find it empty. After a bit of searching, Al and I both turn up empty handed.

"No one's on this floor," I voice what we're both thinking.

Al glances back at the front desk, before stealthily walking to the stairs on the back left side.

"Al," I hiss, watching him slowly climb the steps. "We can't just go up. We don't live here."

"It's not like we're breaking in and entering. And no one's here, it's not exactly our fault."

"You're an Auror," I try and reason with him.

"An Auror, not a saint. If you don't want to come, stay here but I'm going." I stand in my position near the desk for a minute, before reluctantly following him.

"This is for a good cause, no harm done," I mutter to myself reassuringly as I follow the puke yellow walls up two flights of stairs.

"Here." Al points to a door with a plaque that reads _211_. He looks at me with bright eyes, asking me if I want to knock. I nod and he moves away so I can.

I tap on the door two times. We stand there for several minutes, me with my leg shaking in apprehension and Albus with his shoulder against the wall next to the wooden door.

"Maybe no one's-" I cut myself off when a crashing sound comes from inside. I look to Al with wide eyes.

Al, without thinking, slams his shoulder on the door, trying and failing to break it open. I pull out the wand tucked into my skirt and with a few spells, the door makes a clicking sound.

We both rush in, Al heading to what looks like a kitchen while I push my way into one of the bedrooms of the flat. Right when I enter, I freeze at the wand that's pointed at my face.

"Don't move." I glance next to me to see a man with eyes that come in a mixture of brown and deep blue.

The grip on his wand loosens. "Rose?"

"Jackson?"

* * *

 **A/N: So I quickly skimmed this chapter since I couldn't keep any readers waiting. What did you guys think of this chapter? Liking Rose so far? Anyone have a guess on who the guy with the wand is? I would love to hear your thoughts in a review!**


End file.
